


Sometimes Cuddling Your Boyfriend Means Cleaning up Cracked Eggs

by coffea



Series: Two Idiots and Their Dumpster Cat [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, peter's v clingy, this is literally just domestic bliss, wade loves it though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 09:32:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19809538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffea/pseuds/coffea
Summary: Peter and Wade cook together, in an albeit unconventional way.





	Sometimes Cuddling Your Boyfriend Means Cleaning up Cracked Eggs

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn't stop imagining domestic mornings w/ these two, and thus this was born.
> 
> this was originally written as a standalone but halfway through i realized it tied in nicely with my last one-shot, so here we are! enjoy!

Peter blinks open heavy eyelids, purposefully avoiding the sunlight coming through the window. His limbs feel like jello, sore from last nights activities, which unfortunately did not include having sex with Wade, but stopping a couple of drug dealers who had more weapons than Peter had originally anticipated.

He'd definitely rather of been having sex with Wade. Wade, at least, cares for his fragile limbs and does _not_ shoot at him. Unlike certain crabby criminals.

"Morning baby tenderloins," A voice whispers into his ear, arms tightening around his waist.

"I'll give you ten dollars to never call me that again." Peter gently turns over to face Wade, careful not to disrupt the arms wrapped around him.

"Make it twenty and i'll throw in some pancakes," Wade negotiates, kissing Peter's nose.

"No," Peter grumps, nuzzling his face into Wade's neck. "Don't get up to make pancakes. Stay laying with me. Warm."

"Did you eat last night?"

"The blood of my enemies," Peter answers, avoiding the question.

Wade laughs, jostling Peter's head from where it was buried. "I don't think that counts as a meal, sweet pea."

"You once ate nothing but chimichangas for an entire month, I really don't think you're an authority on what is and isn't a meal," Peter says, petulant.

Wade hums, bringing his hands to rub Peter's back in slow motions. He instantly melts, allowing Wade to soothe his aching bones with hands that Peter believes to be magic in multiple ways.

"And you once went two days without eating at all, which makes me more of an authority than you!" Wade exclaims in a hushed voice, and Peter cringes at the memory. "You see how that works?"

"Are you trying to get out of cuddling me?" Peter whines, knowing he's lost.

Wade gasps, tightening his arms and rolling onto his back, so that Peter's laying on his chest. "Blasphemy," he says, hands moving up to rub Peter's neck before venturing towards his hair. "I can cook and cuddle at the same time. I'm a man with many talents, you know?

"You really can't," Peter sighs.

Wade's hands momentarily still, then resume once Peter whines in displeasure. "That sounds like a challenge."

"It isn't," Peter argues.

"It is."

"It isn't."

"It _is_."

The finality of the statement causes Peter to groan, knowing that for the second time this morning, he's lost.

Which is how they ended up in the kitchen, with Peter still plastered against Wade's chest, and Wade's arms cocooning him. Only now Wade's hands were preoccupied with cooking pancakes rather than petting Peter. A bit of a downgrade, if you asked him.

"This is hard," Peter complains, shuffling with Wade as he went to retrieve butter.

"Not as hard at my—"

" _Don't_ finish that statement."

"—resolve to cook and cuddle you at the same time. For Pete's sake, honey bunches, get your mind out of the gutter."

"You're impossible," Peter says, laughter creeping into his voice. Exasperation and fondness at war with each other.

"Damn right." Wade kisses the side of his head in response, then taps his thigh. "Lift your legs."

Peter complies, using the arms wrapped around Wade's neck to effortlessly maneuver his legs around his waist. Wade carries him like he's nothing, and Peter hangs on like an overgrown octopus with ease. He imagined they looked ridiculous, but couldn't find it in himself to care.

"I'm making things awfully easy for you, considering this is supposed to be a challenge," Peter contemplates out loud as Wade returns to his task of flipping pancakes.

"What're you talking about?" Wade replies, voice deceptively innocent. "What challenge? Theres no challenge?"

"You know what challenge."

"I've not a clue what you're talking about," He says, then continues before Peter can open his mouth to argue, "Do we have any orange juice left?"

Peter nods. "We should, might be expired though."

"Nothing expires if you're brave enough."

"I don't think that's how it works, Wade. And before you ask, no, that is _not_ a challenge."

Wade’s tone, once more, shifts into something innocent. "Why ever would I ask that?"

Peter sighs, resigning himself to Wade's antics. He's sure that any attempts at reminding him of their morning conversation would be in vain, so instead he just lays his head on Wade's shoulder once more, content to listen to him hum Africa by ToTo as he cooks.

"Thank you for cooking," Peter says suddenly, because while he'd rather be in bed, he didn't want Wade to think he didn't appreciate the effort. "If it weren't for you, I'd probably be having ramen for breakfast." He kisses Wade's cheek for good measure, appreciating the feel of warm skin against his lips.

"I just wanna eat you up," Wade croons, free hand gravitating to Peter's ass.

Peter scoffs. "Oh, _now_ who's mind is in the gutter?"

"I was talking about the pancakes, Petey. You really need to get yourself under control," Wade scolds, and Peter pinches him in retaliation. "Ouch! You horndog. I mean, what would _May_ say?"

"Wade," Peter complains. "Please don't bring my aunt up when making false accusations involving my libido. It's uncomfortable for everyone."

"Don't know if you've noticed, but we're the only people here," Wade whispers conspiratorially, moving on to plate their breakfast.

"That's not true," Peter points to their dumpster cat, Pig, who had fattened up significantly ever since they'd began caring for it. "He's here."

"Pig agrees with me," Wade argues. "He told me himself. He also thinks you're stinky."

" _You're_ stinky," Peter rebukes, but really all he could smell were the pancakes Wade had made.

Wade ignores him, transferring them both to the couch. Peter makes himself comfortable in the corner, sinking into the nest of blankets that seemed to be a permanent fixture at this point. Wade sat on the opposite end, legs stretched out long enough for his toes to brush up against Peter's leg.

"So," Wade claps his hands together, taking a bite of food. "What have we learned today?"

"That you're stinky," Peter says, just to be difficult.

"No, silly!" Wade pokes his thigh with his foot. "That cuddling and cooking are not mutually exclusive!"

Peter narrows his eyes. "I clung onto you like some kind of spider-monkey while you pretended you weren't making a mess of our kitchen."

"Its hard to see over your hair," Wade defends uselessly, knowing full well that he'd be the one cleaning broken eggs up off the floor later. "But thats besides the point, breakfast was served, wasn't it?"

"It was," he concedes, feeling more agreeable now that he's got a full stomach. "Albeit in an unconventional way."

Wade looks triumphant, but says nothing in favor of clicking on the TV to resume their Golden Girls marathon.

Meanwhile Peter focuses on eating and swatting away Pig whenever he makes an attempt to steal his food. Once he clears his plate, which takes all of three minutes, he crawls his way towards Wade at the end of the couch. He makes himself comfortable, with his back against his chest and legs settled between Wade's own. Wade accepts him readily, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head atop Peter's.

Peter closes his eyes, letting out a contented breath.

After two episodes and a long stretch of silence Wade speaks up, "I win."

Peter blinks warily. "Win what?"

"The challenge."

"There was no challenge!"

"Sweetheart, let's not be a sore loser here."

"Oh my _God_ , Wade!"

"I expect my ten dollars by Monday."

" _Today's_ Monday, and that is not what we agreed on."

"C'mon, baby tenderloins, no need to get upset."

" _Wade_."

"Don't worry, I'll take my payment in kisses," Wade says, grabbing Peter's face and peppering it with his lips.

Peter lets him, laughter spilling from his lips. "You're impossible," Peter says, repeating himself from earlier.

Peter has a sneaking suspicion that he's lost for the third time today. Which really doesn't seem like such a bad thing, if you had to ask him.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [tumblr](https://aftvrnoon.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
